Westfield Academy
by Heartbeats In Sync
Summary: AU. Violet Harmon was an out of control teenager forced to throw away everything she knew in Boston for a ritzy Academy in L.A. When instructor Tate Langdon reads her student file, he's intrigued by her statement: "No one will ever cross me because I will never lose." his heart beat sped up as he smiles to himself. "Challenge accepted, Violet Harmon."
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to Westfield Academy: Our mission is to make our student's exceed above and beyond what is expected in their education. We thrive on academic success and excellence alongside respect for one another. We consider the facility well-run by our hard working staff to ensure what is needed to make our student's well rounded for the working world and prepare for adult hood. Course selection is due by August 28th 2011 and will be accepted no later than August 31st. We look forward to meeting you and having you join the Westfield family!_

_Sincerely, Mrs. Danson, Mr. Lewinski, and Mr. Burk_

_Location: Callister Rd. Los Angeles, California_

_Admissions office: 345 789 1261_

**I.**

Ben Harmon sat by his wife Vivien at the little wooden coffee table in the kitchen of their Boston home looking over brochure's for different school's for their seventeen year old daughter Violet. Vivien sighed heavily running her manicured fingernails through her curly light red hair.

"I don't know what to do Ben," she murmured looking out the window to the summer sun that brightened the green grass and casts shadows against the glass panes. "Violet isn't going to pass this semester if we don't get her out of this environment. She's smoking, sneaking out, skipping school, getting suspended. The list goes on and on. I honestly can't take watching her slip through the cracks. We need to nip this in the bud and get her away from this."

"I know Viv, but what school would be better suited for her? She needs structure and discipline, she isn't listening to us, so she may listen to her instructors if she doesn't know their weaknesses. She knows every instructor she had in the past inside and out."

"I was looking at the brochure for Westfield Academy, and I have to be honest. I like the set up, it's also considered one of the top schools of Los Angeles. I know, it's a big jump and move, we're running out of options. It's the beginning of August. If we were to move, I'd prefer now to be the time to do it. I've seen a few houses for sale and they're moderately cheap. They aren't mansion's but they are a decent size."

Ben rested his head in his hands and contemplated the options being weighed heavily on his conscience. They could move and everything would play out within days and weeks of the new semester, or they can stay here and automatically know what Violet would do. If Violet kept her actions up, expulsion would be discussed and she would have to look for another school to go to anyway.

The decision was made. The Harmon's were moving to L.A. and Violet was going to Westfield Academy whether she liked it or not.

**VxTxVxT**

"What do you mean I'm switching schools? I have friends here!" Violet Harmon replied outraged as Vivien sat on the edge of the bed, Ben standing to the side of her, fuming.

"You're switching schools because of how you act, Violet! And those friends of yours? They aren't good for you. You stay out all hours of the night, you drink, you smoke cigarette's and god knows what else, you cut class. We've raised you better than this! Do you understand how disrespectful you've become since your freshmen year?" Violet rolled her hazel eyes and flipped her hands behind her head.

"Let me stay with Aunt Jo."

"Aunt Jo is getting older, she's not going to want to raise a near adult. We're your parents Violet, you don't have a choice, you're not eighteen. Where we go, you go." Vivien replied sternly.

"You can't be serious. I'm leaving everything I grew up with just to please you guys? You guys really don't know me at all, do you?" Vivien and Ben looked to each-other, their stern looks faltering in Violet's penetrating gaze.

"I will never ever be your perfect daughter. Get that through your thick fucking skulls before you do anything drastic and go ruining our lives in L.A."

"Violet-" Vivien tried. Violet side stepped her. "Violet, please. Listen to us." She begged. Watching her daughter's retreating figure stop.

"When do we leave?" she finally asked.

"The day after tomorrow. You're already enrolled into Westfield Academy. Daddy called earlier in the afternoon. Marcy Shanahan is the Realtor. She invited us to take a look around and start to unpack. The house is ours."

Vivien placed a hand on her shoulder. Which Violet shrugged off without a second glance.

"I'm going out." She whispered coldly. Her eyes hidden behind a deep strand of hair. "Don't wait up."

Violet Harmon was forced to leave her home town of Boston, her sanctuary, her safe haven, and her life, for some ritzy academy in Los Angeles. She had a wicked grin spread across her lips, and she had a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Westfield couldn't handle her and she hadn't met a teacher who would accept the challenge of trying too.

She had another thing coming when she would end up meeting Tate Langdon.

Because Tate Langdon loves testing someone's limitations.


	2. Chapter 2

_Tate, sweetie, pick up your phone. It's mamma. I wanted to invite you over for some tea before your little teaching career starts up again. Any day is fine with me. I love you Tater-tot. Kisses._

**II.**

"I hate you too, you careless whore." Twenty-one year old Tate Langdon muttered sardonically as he deleted the message with a click. It was a daily occurrence of listening to his answering machine messages after a run. Saving his mother's for last of course. He drug his nails over his temples, Constance Langdon wasn't supporting him anymore (not that she ever did anyway.) and she still managed to give him a fucking migraine every time he heard her sugared tone in his receiver. His stomach coiled thinking of the cigarette that would be perched in her wrinkled manicured fingers, flinging the ashes where her hand would flip or move when she would go off about something so petty and meaningless in his life.

God, he hated her. There really was no other way to put it. He despised the old hag with everything he had.

She always acted high and mighty when he was in college and often wondered if he still did that now. Criticizing him for being a low paid teacher. Then a week after ripping his manhood apart by the seams, she would be donating to the poor, donating her clothes, just for the recognition of being a "good citizen." it was just a publicity stunt and a horrid one at that. Just something materialistic that would mean absolutely nothing when she was thrown in a box in about twenty years, if she kept up her drinking habits and smoking those cancer sticks.

She may be the hole he crawled out of, as heartless and sick as that sounded, but he knew one thing for certain. Something that wouldn't take the skin off his mother's back if he was the one that drew the blade.

He would never look at Constance Langdon as a mother, even though she told herself he did.

**TxVxTxV**

Tate stood outside his mother's screen door knocking impatiently as the August sun beat against his back. His aviator sunglasses rested on his long blonde hair, Constance no doubt would ream him for his hair not being at a "professional" length for his teaching at the academy.

"Goddamn it, I'm coming, I'm coming. Hold ya horses." her voice came through the white colored door separating them as she tore it open. Tate stared at her heavily made up face and grimaced. Her eyes were blood shot and slightly red. She had been binge drinking and he could automatically tell.

"My precious baby boy. What on earth are you doing here?" Her voice was quiet and dull, she reached out, brushing his cheek, her hand was freezing to the touch, and as much as he wanted to he didn't pull away.

"I came because you left a message on my machine that you wanted to see me before classes began. So here I am." His voice was cold. Constance didn't notice.

"When did I call? I don't recollect calling anyone today." Her eyes blinked in confusion, and Tate wanted to scream.

"It was you, mom." the word sounded so foreign on his tongue. "You're the only one who calls me Tater-tot." his cheeks flushed red at the ridiculous nickname from his past.

"I haven't called you that in years. You will always be my Tater-tot." She hugged him loosely, the foul smell of alcohol radiated off her clothes, her hair, every part of her. It made him want to gag.

"Sure I will." Monotonous. That's what his voice was whenever he was talking to the bitch who he was forced by god to call his parent. If god was even real, at this point, he had hoped not. If god knew what evil was, he surely wouldn't have stuck him with Constance. She ushered him inside and set him down with the barley standing table. The chair was rickety and unbalanced. Tate looked around his dinning room and saw that his childhood home had really went to shit since he moved out. Not that he was surprised. She set a cup of tea down in front of him.

"So when do you go back to work?" Constance asked, her voice airy and light, those eyes, those deep brown eyes that he inherited from her. Black bottomless pits that could stare into a person's very soul. She was quiet. Too quiet. It was bothering him.

"In a few weeks. I have to look through the list of new student's enrolled for my senior English class."

"Are you going to chop that hair?" Constance asked, chuckling a bit. Something about it seemed forced.

"No. I like my hair like this." His voice held conviction as he looked to his mother's cold lifeless eyes. "Mom. What's wrong with you?" She looked at him, tears slowly streaming down her sunken cheeks.

"Nothing." she whispered staring at the warped wood along the cabinets.

"Bullshit." Sobs ripped at her throat as she threw the glass of scalding liquid she was holding against the wall, the shards of white exploding by the sink. Tate shrunk back in shock as she turned her head to face him fully.

"Tate." Her glare was harsh but her voice was weakening. "Do you hate me?" another sob.

He couldn't answer her.

He couldn't look at her.

He swallowed thickly. Something was wrong.

"Tate." Again, that whine, that weak fucking mewl, he didn't want to see it. All she was at this point was just a weak fucking person.

He isn't standing for it. He wants to yell and argue about how this isn't her he wants to point out that she's a conniving cruel bitch. But his stoic face isn't breaking.

"I have cancer."

Tate's world just crumbles beneath his feet, he doesn't remember tears streaming down his face. He can't hear her voice, he can just see black cornering in his vision.

He slams to the tile floor. His temple slicing against the glass shard from his mother's tea cup as his new reality sets in and cold fear rushes to his bloodstream.

All he can do is lay there and watch his world fade to black.

The last thing he sees is Constance's worried eyes penetrating his own.

**Hey guys! Wow! I am stunned to know everyone likes this story! seriously. Thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites! Please keep them coming for the next chapter. It will be moving day for the Harmon's!**

**Stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

_"I have cancer."_

_He slams to the tile floor. His temple slicing against the glass shard from his mother's tea cup as his new reality sets in and cold fear rushes to his bloodstream._

_All he can do is lay there and watch his world fade to black._

_The last thing he sees is Constance's worried eyes penetrating his own._

**III**.

The world is a messed up place and a filthy goddamn horror show. Filled with shit, piss, and the vomit that run through the streets. Tate knows a few horrors of the world and wonders if his teaching degree can justify all of the shit he's been put through. Then he thinks of Constance and shakes the thoughts out of his head.

When he was a teenager, and even a few times as an adult, he always looked at Constance as the human reincarnate of the devil. She was a fucked up woman who lived on the bottle and her nicotine addiction. Her mothering skills were barley there contributes. Signing him up for track because he wouldn't go out for the football team, throwing a book of death and suicide in his face and told him to be strong and grow some balls, or when he would cry about a father who never came back after he promised to take him away from all the pain. She'd hit him, her rings scarring up his smoothe flesh, crooning harshly in his ear about how his daddy didn't want him. His sobs being forced down until she left whatever room they were in.

When he was ten years old, he gave up looking at the world with the expression glass half full. He downed the imaginary liquid when he finally ripped a razor blade across the skin of his wrists. He watched the blood droplets contrast against the white porcelain of the toilet as he heard his mother stumbling around drunk looking for him in every other room in the house but the bathroom. It was always a fucked up game that he so desperately tried to end. God hadn't wanted him then, and probably wouldn't want him now. It was just something he couldn't control. No matter how hard he tried.

His temple throbbed as he held the piece of tissue over it to soak up what blood was left. His eyes spotted with black dots and his focus was slightly dull. His head pulsed as he tried to stand up with the help of the rickety chair he sat in.

"Mom? You still here?" His voice was louder in his mind as a new wave of pain washed over him as he grunted in discomfort. No answer was ever replied back to his calls.

Constance wasn't anywhere.

His mother was dying of cancer and she was nowhere to be found after he fainted from the news. He hadn't registered any of it until now.

His footsteps echoed throughout the house as he went to the door to leave. Maybe she'd call him again, or maybe he would call her to see if she remembered who he was. His thoughts were warped and it hadn't hit him yet. Crying wasn't his strong suit and he would never shed tears in front of her again, he didn't care if it made him heartless. It was her who made him endure that as a boy.

_"Tears are shed by the weak." _Irony fit in Tate's life after watching his mother cry. His mother was the definition of the word. His mother was weak, and it killed him to realize that at a point of her life where she didn't know how long she would have left to shed those tears, of anguish, sorrow and hate.

His mother was dying of cancer and if there was a cure to this horrible illness he would do anything to make her better.

Because Constance is still his mother, and he could never fully hate her no matter what pain she inflicted on him.

**TxVxTxV**

Violet's hazel eyes stumbled across an older looking house with cracked and broken concrete leading up to creaky wooden steps. She refused to be shown the home, she just wanted to 'move in and get it the fuck over with'. As she put it ever so sweetly. As sweet as a seventeen year old who hates the world could put it. After hours of driving, the Harmon's came to a stop and got out of the car. Vivien entered the home first, eager and happy to finally redecorate it how she wanted.

"You have to be fucking kidding me." she laughed.

"What now, Violet?" her father asked, shoving a box of her belongings in her hands.

"We left our home in Boston for this shit-hole here? Are you insane?" Her words laced with venom and spite as her eyes blazed in anger.

"Yes, Violet, we left our home for this shit-hole because it is absolutely one hundred percent your own fucking fault. No go and help your mother unpack. Now."

"You really are a grade A prick." And she was gone, disappearing through the front door with Vivien smiling at her, Violet muttered something incoherent and undoubtedly rude. Hopefully she would learn to be respectful with this academy deal. With a tuition like theirs, Ben hoped she would come out speaking French and being abstinent, that would be a dream come true, if she even graduated this place.

He hated thinking about her as one of those street rats she hung out with in Boston that would end up not becoming anything in the working world. He knew deep in his heart that would never happen to Violet. He would do anything in his power to assure that as-well.

Even if it meant dragging their family away from everything known and paying a hefty barely affordable tuition fee for a school that they had never even heard of.

Violet may hate him now, but within five years she would be thanking him. At least that's what he had hoped in the long run of things.

He carried the remainder of the boxes inside the house and shut the door behind him. Everything was wearing on him and he hadn't known how to handle it. Hopefully he would learn how to cope before he took it out on his work, and began his long hour shifts again.

**VxTxVxT**

"So when do I start going to the academy for spoiled rich bitches in Tinsel town?" Violet asked Vivien as she hung a picture frame on her light tan walls of the middle bedroom. It was a little bigger than her old one and had a bay window, which she hated to admit she really liked.

"Violet, you start next week, now stop acting like this. We did this for your benefit."

"Throwing me in so snooty rich bitch academy won't do shit. I had friends in Boston Mom. I won't befriend anyone in this place because I'm not a spoiled princess and we ALL know it. So thanks a lot for moving me here. You guys really know how to make hate my only emotion."

"You don't mean that Vi." Vivien replied looking to her daughter who stood with her arms crossed tightly over her dress covered chest.

"Yeah, I do. I also mean this, You guys are the shittiest parents out there. I really hope you find happiness in my misery, because that's all you seem to make me feel. Miserable. We moved all this way for nothing, and worst of all, it was your own fucking idea. Good going Vivien." Violet ran down the steps passed her father who was shouting something she completely ignored as she ran outside into the cooled down air.

Her converse hit the pavement as she broke out into a sprint, her mind in a whirlwind of emotions she was dreading to be exposed. Her breathing was hitched and she couldn't get enough air into her lungs, it felt as if she was being stabbed as she coughed violently into her hand.

"Are you alright?" Violet turned to come face to face a blonde haired guy looking at her out his car window, a 1960's Mustang. Classic. His hands rested on the steering wheel. Along with his concerned eyes on her face and shaking body.

"Yeah...Yeah, I'm fine, I just thought I'd come out for a run."

"You look like you're going to collapse." he smiled. His dimples sinking into his cheeks. Violet blushed slightly.

"I never said I was any good at running." came her retort. His head disappeared from under the dash, coming up with an unopened water bottle.

"Catch." The water bottle flew through the air briefly before Violet's tiny hands wrapped around the plastic.

"Thanks. How do I know this isn't poisoned?" Violet eyed the lid as he smirked, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

"You don't, guess you're gonna have to trust me." She smiled before he revved the gas a bit, he started to drive away before she called out to him

"Wait! What's your name?"

"Tate." He called out the window, catching her gaze slightly before turning around the closest corner.

Violet cracked the lid to the water bottle and took a long gulp. The water sliding down her throat soothing the ache that lingered there from the coughing fit.

"Tate..." was all she said before a genuine smile spread across her face.

Who knows, she might end up liking this shit-hole town after all.

**Chapter 3 is done! Woo! I would like to thank my lovely reviewers for their kind words of encouragement! You guys are seriously awesome and I love writing this for you all.**

**I'm looking 4-5 reviews for the next chapter post.**

**Enjoy! Favorite, follow, review, etc. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

_Violet cracked the lid to the water bottle and took a long gulp. The water sliding down her throat soothing the ache that lingered there from the coughing fit._

_"Tate..." was all she said before a genuine smile spread across her face._

_Who knows, she might end up liking this shit-hole town after all._

**IV**

Six days.

It had been six days since Tate had seen that girl sprinting like a maniac down the street. She looked so..so lost, like a little puppy angry at the world. He watched her pant, her lungs probably on fire from how fast she was going. She obviously wasn't used to running. He snickered at the thought of her being on his track team, going up against him, and knowing within ten seconds, she'd have dust from his shoes in her path. He hadn't quite understood why he was so fascinated with a girl who looked no older than sixteen. He gave her his last water bottle which was very out of character for someone like him. Not to mention, it made him look like a freak, and the look the girl gave him said it without needing the words. Tate hadn't even gotten her name and here his thoughts were. Stuck on a barely legal girl who took his last water bottle, which he willingly gave her.

Out of which emotion? He wasn't too sure.

He was now sitting in his too cramped apartment against the window sill where the breeze blew against the nape of his neck, moving the blonde waves against the bone where his spine began. He had received word of his new student files coming in for the 2011-2012 semester. So Westfield Academy was where he spent the last two hours of his day, his class prep took time, considering class began next week, he needed to get it done. For the most part it was. Being an English teacher fresh out of college with his Master's degree at just twenty-one was rather unheard of, but it was accomplished by himself, and he was damn proud of it. English was always so inviting for him. From visiting the works of Keats, Poe, Shakespeare, and Sophocles the thoughts and possibilities were endless in allowing his imagination to wander and his dreams to become a bigger part of his routine for the classroom.

When the Academy called him and asked if he would like an interview, he jumped at the opportunity and came out an hour later with a job. Another unheard of scenario. He felt as if he was in a dream to good to be a reality, especially his. None the less he was blessed and thankful to be doing something he loved that didn't require sitting at a small tiny cubicle for eight hours typing worthless shit into an ancient computer that hadn't worked properly. He'd seen that a thousand times with Larry Harvey, one of his mother's old live-in flings when he was about fifteen. Bastard would always complain about his boss, and how he was unfair and had shown cowardliness towards him.

The relationship hadn't lasted long when he had gotten a new secretary that tested the boundaries with her new boss, which so happened to be Mr. Harvey himself. Moira O'Hara was her name, and my god, Constance was furious. Her lover had run off with the little whore secretary, and she was left doing as little as she was before. Sometimes Tate wouldn't eat, and when he did, it would be a scrap of food a mutt wouldn't want. His mother's fairy-tale life was shot to hell. She was no longer on the arm of a successful business man, but on a drunken black-out which Tate was forced to watch his mother become unhinged.

At the young age of sixteen, he vowed to himself he would never become so dependent on one person, he would work for something he had an interest in and live for just himself It was exactly what he ended up doing and Constance was less than pleased with his choices.

Just like every other time he had done something even remotely successful. He would tell Constance what was new when she asked and she would just shoot it down with a harsh word and a flick of her hand. Leaving Tate to feel like an utter disgrace. Making the sick lust of the razor blade that much more tempting.

**TxVxTxV**

Student files were spread out among the school clutter of lesson plans and routines. It was around nine in the evening, Tate propped his feet up on the table flicking through some of the newcomers, singling the troubled from the good, the bright from the dull, and finally the workaholic's to the slackers.

His eyes scanned over the young girl's file in front of him. Stephanie Boggs her name read on the label. Her picture was like something out of a gothic magazine. Her pale blonde hair, and jet black ends were pulled up in a messy fashion. Caked black eye-liner smeared under the bottom lid of her eyes, Black lipstick covered her lips, and her clothes were something quite head turning. Purple hoodie with a black undershirt, along black skinny jeans and combat boots. She would definitely stand out from the rest, that was almost self assured.

She enjoyed poetry, art, and cosmetic studies. Her strong suit was English, and her weakness was Science.

He smiled as he read further. She was like him in many ways, coming from a shitty home-life, who also found an escape him school. He was already starting to like this school year and it hadn't even begun yet.

The majority of the files after hers were less than appealing. many of them were football stars and cheerleaders who struggled heavily with learning and general, he would have to step up the learning styles in order for these kids to graduate. Luckily English class was a necessity to obtain the diploma at the commencement ceremony in June.

One file he picked up hadn't had the picture of the girl, just her educational background, or rather, lack of.

"Violet Harmon." Tate's voice rang heavily throughout the empty apartment as he tasted the name on his tongue, each syllable rolling against his teeth in a way that he liked. She was cocky, sarcastic and witty, along with a high suspension risk. Tate read her history (Which was so appreciatively thrown in on Ben's behalf.) She had thought school was a waste of time, and wouldn't allow it to get into her life more than it had too. She had no dreams of attending another outside school when graduation was done. Lovely.

"Violet is out of control when it comes to teacher's, principal's, along with any other authority that tries to tell her what to do. She challenges anyone who fears her, or shows it. She also has the power to know her teacher's weakness and will play it against them to get what she wants. " Tate read aloud once more, laughing as he did so. This girl had spunk, and he immediately was drawn to her personality. Luckily he wasn't some pansy who would bend backwards for a little girl's meaningless threats.

He could already tell this girl had a bark and no bite. Meeting her would prove it. His smile grew wider as his heart beat thudded loudly in his ears.

"If it's a challenge you want, then challenge accepted, Violet Harmon."

**A big thank you to my lovely reviewers again. This is the most fun I have had writing this, I am really glad you all enjoy it. Just a few clarifications.**

**-Stephanie's character will have a major twist to the plot. Don't worry, I will forever and always ship Violate.**

**-to the reviewer who wanted them to be in the classroom this chapter, I'm sorry, but I can't rush the plot line but I can and will promise next chapter, school is insession!****So be happy!**

**-If there is anything you would like to include, PM me, and I will work on it. Also, I know I made Tate 21, but it's fanfiction, so it seemed fitting he'd be a few years older.**

**-Finally, there will be smut in later chapters, fantasies for now ;) (as long as you all want them.)**

**Thank you for reading. Please continue!**

**4-5 reviews for the next post!**


	5. Chapter 5

_He could already tell this girl had a bark and no bite. Meeting her would prove it. His smile grew wider as his heart beat thudded loudly in his ears._

_"If it's a challenge you want, then challenge accepted, Violet Harmon."_

**V**

Violet's alarm blared loudly in her ears, startling her out of a deep slumber, causing her body to jerk before landing on her floor with a thud. She glanced at the clock, seven in the morning. Her hazel eyes rolled before diving against her pillow to stop the intolerable beeping.

"Violet, honey, turn off the alarm and get up! School starts today." Vivien's muffled voice replied after her banging on the door.

"Jesus Christ, I'm up mom, go away!" Violet replied moodily. The sun barely peeking over the horizon as she went to her window to shut the blinds so the darkness would surround her, allowing sleep to retake her mind and oncoming stress. No such luck, within three minutes, Ben was also banging at the door shouting for her to wake. She growled agitated before ripping the door open and staring at Ben Harmon's smirking face.

"Morning sunshine! Ready for today?"

"Go to hell." She shot back.

"Oh good, I can go on vacation early." Ben muttered as Violet slammed the door in his face. His footsteps fading down the hall. Most-likely to complain to Vivien about Violet. Somethings just never change, and she didn't care.

Violet slid against the wall of her closet and hugged her knees to her chest. She was tired. Not ready to go to Tinsle town's academy for rich daddies girl's at all. She just wanted to sleep. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the musty smell of her closet before picking a navy blue dress, with a pair of back converse and gray leggings. Simple and comfortable. Who was she impressing? It wasn't like any guys were going to speak to her, or anyone else for that matter.

Then her mind slipped back to Tate. He had spoken to her, and he was very attractive. He seemed nice enough, although she hadn't given her name, it was decent to talk to another human being who seemed to understand, he had that sense about him, he understood pain, that much she could tell by the depths of his eyes, not doubting for a second some fucked up shit went on in his life. He wasn't hesitant to talk to a girl who was running like a madwoman down the street away from the emotional toll that was taking over her.

He didn't ask, and she didn't tell. That's how it should be. Mind your own business and worry about your own shit. She liked that Tate did that.

He also wasn't fussing over her like she was a fragile china doll. That's what made him different.

Different from the rest of the wanna-be studs who thought they were hot shit by how attractive they were. Sure, he drove a nice car, but it wasn't decked out in Chrome. It wasn't a low-rider, and it wasn't driven by a total douche. He seemed normal compared to herself. But what was normal? In Violet's mind Tate was. As far as she could tell anyway. But what were the odds of her seeing him again?

_Pretty slim in this big town of asshole's. _She concluded mentally. Shifting slightly to lace her up grungy converse. Slipping her army green messenger bag over her body, she fluffed her hair out of her strap and walked down the steps to Ben reading the paper, and Vivien cooking breakfast. A picture perfect family.

Yeah, right.

"Hey sweetie, made your favorite." Vivien replied, passing Violet pancakes and honey.

"Thanks," Vivien nodded. "Any coffee?" another nod.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Black." Vivien grimaced but fixed her a cup. Ben stared at her.

"Since when do you drink black coffee?"

"Since now. Dad." Violet replied coolly.

"Well finish up, I'm driving you to school."

"Oh yay. What a fabulous start to the new school year. Can mom at-least pick me up?" Ben sighed, rubbing his temples. Vivien smiled sadly.

"Sure. I'll pick you up at three." It's the least she could do, considering it was her fault her daughter was un-happy. Although she needed it.

"Great. Thanks." she muttered walking to the front door and out to her father's silver Volvo.

"What are we going to do with her, Viv? She's starting to really become hard to handle. I feel bad for whoever is going to be teaching her. We'll be out of this house by the end of the year."

"Be positive. She'll be fine." Vivien replied, kissing him swiftly. "She's gonna be late. So, go." Ben nodded grabbing his car keys and he left the house, going to meet Violet in the car.

**VxTxVxTxV**

"You're mother will be here at exactly three to pick you up, so be on time, no dilly dallying, no fights, and please cut your teacher's a break, it's the first day, don't bite their heads off." Violet eyed the tall castle-like building in front of her with distaste, snapping back to reality in time to answer Ben back with a bitchy remark.

"Dilly-dallying? What in the hell are you? Sixty?" Violet asked.

"Violet. Knock it off with the cursing. It's not lady-like, nor is it respectful."

"Please don't use your PhD to educate me on how I talk. I'm not three. It's you and mom's fault I'm enrolled in this fucking place." The door to the car slammed shut as Violet exited before Ben could reply. She stalked to the tall glass doors and flung herself in. Seeing the main office of the academy to her far right. A curly haired blonde woman dressed in what looked like to be something much more formal than what she was wearing, smiled brightly as she walked in.

"Hello! You must be new, I am Nora Montgomery, tell me your name and I will see if your schedule is on file."

"Violet Harmon." She really didn't have time with all of this designer, prim and proper bullshit.

"Ah yes, Violet. Here you are. What a lovely name by the way." Nora replied getting up from her desk chair and shuffling to the printer.

"Gee, Thanks. My parent's second choice was sun-shine." Violet mocked.

"Now, home-room is fifteen minutes each day at eight-thirty, and your adviser is Mrs. Jacobs. Then after home-room, your first class is Math with Mr. Burk. Next, is Science with Mrs. Britton. Followed by History with Mr. Blackwell, Gym with Mrs. Harra. And finally, English class with Mr. Langdon. He is one of our youngest and most dedicated to his work. A word of advice. Never be tardy to any of your classes, or you will be forced to detention along with writing a five thousand word essay on why you were late. Not fun. Trust me." Nora whispered.

"Lunch is based on Mr. Blackwell's schedule. So it will be between eleven to twelve thirty. If you have any questions, ask a teacher or a fellow student, they're all really very kind. Enjoy your day Ms. Harmon." She replied, thrusting the paper in her hands and shooing her out the door.

She was beginning to hate this school already, and it wasn't even nine.

**VxTxVxTxV**

Violet gasped for oxygen practically begging for the air to enter her lungs. It was gym class her second to last class of the day, and Mrs. Harra was out to get her it seemed. Her stomach was on fire and her chest was screaming as her heart slammed against her rib cage. The disgusting slop they called food twisted her insides into knots. She felt the sweat drip down her forehead as the whistle finally sounded meaning class was over. Picking up her bag, she couldn't get out of there fast enough. Now she was late for English, and she prayed Mr. Langdon wouldn't yell at her for not being on time like the rest of these shit heads.

_Fat fucking chance._

She ran up the stairs as fast as her wobbly legs could take her, finding room three fifty-six with ease. Hearing a males voice enter her ear made her sigh in embarrassment.

_Everyone's going to stare at me. Wonderful. _She twisted the knob and entered in the room.

"Stephanie Boggs-" His voice was cut off by the slight sound of footsteps echoing off the marble floor. Tate watched the girl walk to the back corner desk of the room and instantly put her head down.

"Here." came a light reply of the girl closest to him.

"Violet Harmon." He looked around the room as the girl in the back raised her hand slightly still keeping her head down. He fought back the urge to smile.

"Good, that's everyone. Well, hey you guys, it's nice to meet all of you. I would like to introduce you to my favorite class, which is indeed English, one of the reason's I began teaching it. We will cover topic's from Keats to Shakespeare. I promise I will make it as painless as possible for those of you who dislike this class. Before I forget, My name is Tate Langdon. You all are instructed to call me Mr. Langdon, but I hate formalities, so please call me Tate."

Violet's head snapped up to meet his gaze. Tate was barely able to keep the surprise he felt under control as he realized who she was, and vice-versa.

_Oh, I am definitely going to enjoy English this year... _Violet thought as Tate finally took his gaze off her's, tints of blush heating both of their faces.

**School is now in session! Tate and Violet finally realize they've seen each-other before. How will this play out? Only I know! I'm evil. But not as bad as our favorite pyscho. ;)**

**Thank you my lovely reviewers for reading and reviewing!**

**4-5 reviews for Chapter 6! And may you all have dreams of Violate in your heads tonight!**


	6. Chapter 6

_"My name is Tate Langdon. You all are instructed to call me Mr. Langdon, but I hate formalities, so please call me Tate."_

_Violet's head snapped up to meet his gaze. Tate was barely able to keep the surprise he felt under control as he realized who she was, and vice-versa._

_Oh, I am definitely going to enjoy English this year... Violet thought as Tate finally took his gaze off her's, tints of blush heating both of their faces._

**VI**

The car ride home was silent and Vivien didn't mind. Violet sat in the passenger side of her SUV in a daze. Her eyes slightly glassy barely registering the fact that the car was in park and her mother had shut the door but left the front door open. Hailie, her mother's Yorkie, barked wildly until Violet slipped back into reality and exited the car with a huff grabbing her messenger bag from the back seat.

"God, shut up Hailie."

"She speaks! Speak again bright angel!" Vivien replied with a smile.

"Quoting Shakespeare. Can't say I pegged you as a poet." Violet replied flopping back on the couch exhausted. Her eyes raw and itchy from lack of sleep. Hailie jumped on her lap sitting obediently.

"I was quite the Shakespeare fan back in high school, but whose to say I haven't read his work after I graduated."

"Have you?" Violet questioned, massaging Hailie's belly as her sounds of delight echoed in her ears.

"When I got pregnant with you. Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, my two favorites by far. I used to read aloud, hoping you could hear me and become a fan too. Your father down right despised it you know." Vivien looked to the dusty table next to her daughter and began to spritz a rag with cleaner before scrubbing it.

"Maybe that's why Hamlet's my favorite book. Because of you."

"Maybe. Why not Romeo and Juliet?" she asked curiously.

"Uh, well, Romeo liked another girl who rejected him, took Juliet as a rebound and 'fell in love' after knowing each-other three days. Then, killed themselves. Please don't get me started on the Montague's and the Capulet's, they're even worse than their kids." Vivien laughed.

"Well, since you put it that way, Romeo and Juliet were a little out there." Violet laughed genuinely for the first time in months. She wasn't used to the feeling at all.

"So here's the real question." Vivien began. Violet rolled her eyes playfully.

"How was school today, Violet?" Violet finished for her as Vivien's red hair swung forward in a nod. "It was okay I guess. Nothing really to tell. Food's shit though."

"Teacher's nice?" Tate's face flashed in her mind as she almost smiled.

"They're eh. Just annoying, droning and talk too much."

"Typical High school, huh Vi?" Violet thought about it and decided taking a much more different meaning to answer her mother's question was the best bet.

"Not in the slightest." She smirked before she put Hailie on the ground despite her whimpering. Running up the stairs as she did so.

"I'll be down later maybe. I have Homework." she called over the railing. Vivien smiled.

"Okay sweetie. Call if you need help."

"Mom?" Violet called.

"Yes?"

"Thank you." Violet's door closed and her rock music began to play. Vivien chuckled to herself and picked up Hailie.

Maybe moving across the country was the best idea for Violet and it was exactly what she needed.

Maybe.

**VxTxVxTxV**

"Hello? Anyone home?" Tate called walking into his mother's house, finding Constance in the kitchen lighting up another smoke. Her hands shaky and weak as she lifted the cancer stick to her lips.

"Welcome back home, Tate." Her voice was cold and calm as Tate took a seat across from her.

"Where the hell did you go, mom? Why didn't you stay with me until I woke up? Maybe give me an explanation of why you waiting so long to tell me you had cancer." His voice was bitter as she smirked unforgiving at her son.

"Sorry. But you should know mommy doesn't cottle." Tate scoffed.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me? Were you ever planning to tell me? Or was I gonna walk up here one morning and find out from your neighbors?"

"Oh, Tate, you're still so dramatic. I say, you should've done acting classes during college, not some willy-nilly teaching gig that doesn't even last you. You have so much potential, my precious baby boy. God blessed me with you, why waste your talents teaching uncaring, barely educated brats who will end up working at the local fast food place down town? You're better than that."

"Oh shut up mother! This ISN'T about me and you damn well know it. Stop changing the subject and tell me why you waited this long." Tate growled impatiently.

"Because I figured you wouldn't of cared either way if I lived or died. Your hatred was so painfully obvious when you were a boy. When daddy left, when Larry came, it was all so fucking predictable. You weren't happy with me then, and you aren't happy with me now. You have an obvious reason to hate me and all I ask is what is the reason?"

"You really want to know why I hate you so much? Why I have always fucking hated you?" Constance closed her eyes, as tears dripped down her face sullenly. She's been waiting for this ever since Tate could talk. Now she was going to hear it.

"Because you're a vengeful, spiteful, _bitch_. When dad left you, you were supposed to stay strong for me, but you couldn't even do that. All you did was cry and drink, along with taking it out on me. Then you replaced dad with Larry Harvey. That man took my father's place and you let him! You let him _hit _me, You saw the bruises and the gashes and you fucking let him mutilate me! You sat back and watched him with that same fucking glass of Chardonnay you drink now. It was YOU. You chose a man to make you only you happy because you're too SELFISH to think about the safety of your child!" Tate was close to sobbing now as his tone had risen after each word. Constance said nothing but looked down to her empty wine glass.

"All you ever did was hurt me mom. I wanna scream at how much I fucking hate you, despise you, I wanna rip out your fucking heart just to see if it's as black as it seems to be whenever something wasn't set to your standards. You made me want to cut myself deeper, and deeper, until I stop breathing because you treated me like I was a piece of shit all those years ago! I wanted to die so badly because of you. Look at what you made me do!" His vision was blurry with un-shed tears, he ripped up his sleeve to show her the multiple healed wounds of marred flesh that would never fully go away.

"Look at it." His tone had quieted some as Constance's eyes opened and took in her son's flesh. Her chest heaved as a sob ripped at her throat. Tears falling freely down his face as he realized he was crying in front of his mother. "Sickening. isn't it?" he questioned.

"I'm not your perfect son. Nor will I ever be. I blame you for so much, every wrong doing, or fucked up thing I ever do was your fault. I want to say you're the reason I have hatred flowing through me. I can't." Constance's eyes met his.

"I can't blame you fully. I hate myself too. I hated scarring myself because i was too fucking weak to stand up to you. Mom, you weren't a mother to me, you shouldn't of had kids if you couldn't care for, or love them. That's what I thought when I paid through school and you said you wished I was someone else. Someone you can be proud of. Remember when you said that to me? Because I wanted to be a teacher and you wanted me to become a doctor or a lawyer. Even when I was out on my own...you still wanted to control every aspect of my goddamn life. You were never there for me. But you know what? I can look past that. Because I love you regardless of all the shit you do. I still love you, mom. I do. Not because you have cancer. But because we bleed the same blood. We're human. We make mistakes. But you aren't leaving this world with a child who hates you. You will leave this world safe. You will die...loved."

Constance in a fit of hysterics lunged at her son, hugging him as if he was going to disappear at any second. Her sobs muffled by his shirt, the black makeup staining it. Tate whispered into her hair, trying to calm her. Tears streaked down his pale skin as well.

"I love you so much Tate. I always have and always will. I was no mother back then. I am no mother now. But despite everything I put you through, Larry's put you through, I apologize. I can't fathom why I ever allowed that man to put a finger on you. God may not forgive me, but at least, you, my baby boy, can and does find it in his heart to do so. Tate, you are the light of my life. I don't ever want you to forget that. Please, don't. Maybe this is God's way of making me realize what I am losing."

They were mother and son, crying together in a fit of mourning. Mourning the past and all it's wrongs, mourning the future, in understanding death. Tate knew one thing, and one thing for only.

He loved his mother, and she loved him too.

**TxVxTxVxT**

It was seven that next morning as Violet strolled through Tate's English classroom to find his back turned to the chalk board as he wrote down things about the new book they would most-likely be studying. She took a seat behind him hoping to not disturb his concentration on what he was writing. After a minute, he stopped to look down at his handwritten notes to finish up.

"Oedipus, huh?" Her voice clipped, causing Tate to jump back momentarily surprised until he realized who was taking.

"Violet Harmon? What are you doing here?" His voice was light, monotone, and his eyes were red and bloodshot looking as if he hadn't slept in a week.

"I came to see you, Tate. I was the girl you gave the water bottle too. You remember, the girl who ran like a madwoman down the street." she replied.

"Yeah. I remember you perfectly. What do you need this early? I don't have you until the end of the day."

"I don't know, to talk I guess." she replied, reaching into her green bag, pulling out a chilled water bottle and setting it on his desk. Tate didn't see as he walked to the back of the room to shut the windows. He smiled at Violet but it hadn't reached his eyes.

"Student's usually come for tutoring only." She smiled back. "What were you running from when I last saw you anyway, Violet?" Tate asked, stretching his aching joints.

"I was running from the ghost of my past self." Her eyes bore into his bloodshot ones as she circled the desks one by one until they were so close, she could smell the axe on his clothes. "I'm sorry." she whispered gently holding out her wrist. His eyes caught sight of the gashes that littered her skin.

"How did you know?" he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"Your cuffs are rolled up. I knew you went through some shit when I looked into your eyes in your car. You're just...readable. I guess."

"You don't know me."

"I don't have too, Tate. You can't help the thoughts that run through your head. I know what it's like to crave death. Watch the blood slide down my skin. Feel myself fall unconscious and wonder why I woke up alive and breathing. We aren't that much different, though we aren't that much alike either." She glanced at the clock behind Tate's head, seeing the bell was about to ring.

"I need to go. I'll see you in class." Violet grabbed her bag and slung it over her gray cardigan and walked to the door. Tate stood emotionless, staring at nothing.

"Tate?" His eyes flickered to hers. "If you need anything at all, I'm here." And she was gone. Tate wondered if she was really there or not, his mind had to be playing tricks on him. The bell rang in his ears, as he ran his fingers through his hair and forced a fake smile on his face as students came piling in.

It would just be a few more hours until Violet would be in his presence again.

He wanted to know her.

He wanted to trust her. He wanted to trust a student he barely even knew. As the last of his students came in, he walked to his desk. His eyes catching a chilled water bottle by the stacked papers of his lesson.

For the first time in days, Tate had a reason to smile.

**Whew! Another chapter done! There is a lot going on just like I promised! It was tough writing Tate and Violet for this. I had a good idea of where I wanted them to go. Let me know what you all think!**

**I will try to update by Friday!**

**4-5 Reviews for chapter 7 :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Guys! This chapter is SOO overdue. And I apologize! I was sick with the flu for about two weeks. :( Anywho. A big thank you to my lovely reviewers. Especially Lauren G. for her awesome reassurance and kind words! Means alot. Keep on reviewing! **

**Peace, Love, Violate.**

_As the last of his students came in, he walked to his desk. His eyes catching a chilled water bottle by the stacked papers of his lesson._

_For the first time in days, Tate had a reason to smile._

**VII**

The clock's hands ticked slowly over the next number as Tate wrote more on the black board behind his desk. The words jumbled together as he shook his head to fix his vision. It would be about five minutes until he saw her again. No girl had figured him out before, especially a student in his senior year English class. He re-stacked his papers, and ran his fingers through his tousled hair.

He was tired. He wanted to sleep and wake up feeling better, his life was a messy situation that he didn't even want to be a part of. The walls he was forced to hold up were crumbling, and it was hard to mask his pain now. His mother was dying and she didn't react the way he had expected her too. Her bravado was slipping as well. Yet she had a valid reason.

He was lucky to even get an excuse. He hadn't told the board of his mother's misfortune because he would be the one suffering. They would most likely give him personal grieving time and pay along with it, but he didn't want that. He wanted to work, he wanted to forget what would end up breaking him. He couldn't handle the dark thoughts that rounded his psyches day and night. He hated cutting to rid the pain, he hated the slits that scarred his skin with permanent reminders of what went wrong and how he dealt with it.

Tate Langdon hated himself.

He just hated his weaknesses just a bit more.

**TxVxTxVxT**

The bell sounded above his head and students piled in, their happy chatter quieted as they sank into their seats and got out the proper materials for his class.

Tate's eyes scanned the room and desks before taking attendance, one was empty much to his surprise. Being it was still considered early in the semester. He looked to his seating chart finding the name of the absent person. Violet Harmon was scratched onto the line in messy writing.

Violet Harmon wasn't in class, and he hated to admit it, but he was a little confused. She had shown up this morning early to talk to him, outside of tutoring or anything that required help. She even repaid him back a water bottle from two weeks before when they first met. Unbeknownst to who she was. Surely she would have told him she wouldn't be in right?

It was all so strange. This girl was definitely different and it intrigued him.

But it wasn't safe, she was his student, he was the instructor, they weren't compatible by law and if he involved himself romantically with her, then his job was in jeopardy. This, well, whatever this was considered to be, was dangerous in itself. But, Tate Langdon was attracted to the dangers of the world, that alone could cause him harm.

Violet was his danger and he didn't wanna pull away, the real problem? He didn't know if he could before it was too late.

The students read casually, flipping through the pages of Oedipus The King after Tate explained what it was about and instructed them to read the first chapter. For the most part, the room was quiet. Too quiet, Tate finally snapped up from the over read text of his book and his eyes widened in surprise.

Sneaking into the room was Violet Harmon, with a hood covering up her face.

"Miss Harmon, you're late." Tate scolded half heartedly, he didn't care that she was late after seeing her so mysterious, he was worried now.

"Piss off, Tate." Violet snapped harshly before placing her head on the desk. Gasps sounded the room as some of the guys 'ooohed' immaturely. Tate stood there shocked against Violet's tone as he inwardly cringed. He felt her words with a sting as sharp as his old blades. His eyes blazed in anger as his fist clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

"See me after class." the tone of his voice held a false sense of dominance. Violet didn't budge. Tate hadn't understood why she was angry with him, if she even was. He had never heard her use such a vicious word. It upset him greatly.

**VxTxVxTxV**

Class ended fifteen minutes ago, Tate stared at Violet's un-moving form. His breaths came out shaky and soft as he cautiously approached her. Taking a seat, he touched her arm with a firm but gentle hand.

"Violet." his voice was deeper than he wanted it to be, he wanted to mask his hurt, but with her, it seemed to be inevitable to not mask anything. He was real, and so were the emotions being expressed.

Her hair peeked out from her hood as she lifted her head slightly to listen more clearly.

"What happened, why are you getting an attitude?" Tate asked touching her forearm with his fingers, she looked at him fully as he backed up against the chair. Her cheek was badly cut, a deep gash that looked painful in her porcelain skin. He flinched.

"That's why. That flinching when you looked at me, it's been happening all fucking day! I didn't ask for it, I certainly didn't ask for this!" She pointed to the still open wound. "I wouldn't wish this on my worst fucking enemy. Let alone do this to someone."

"Who did this? I can report them. We can put a stop to it. This is a crime. Bullying has a zero tolerance in this academy."

"Fuck that zero tolerance shit, Tate. You and I both know that snitching will only make it ten times worse. I'm a big girl now. I don't need my professor sticking up for me." her voice was cold and demeaning

"It's my job, you are my responsibility. Look, let me help you." Tate was almost pleading now. Violet's gaze snapped to his penetrating eyes as she finally spoke.

"It was Leah Mason. She attacked me in lunch when I was smoking a cigarette down in the parking lot of the back of the school. I really didn't know it was such a crime. She got me on the ground and slit my cheek with her ring. Sharp edge."

"I should be writing you up for smoking on school property, but I'm dismissing that because of what Leah did. Just leave it to me, she won't bother you again. I promise." His eyes held conviction as Violet smiled lightly. She packed up her things and swung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"You understand." Tate muttered. She smiled once more and walked out, her hood over her face again shielding the violent secret from the world. Even if it was for a little while.

Tate too, packed up his things and turned the light of the room off and locked the door.

Leah Mason was Tate's main concern as of now.

He smirked manically as he felt his darkening thoughts consume him because Violet's suffering was almost over and he was doing it his way this time.

The only real question he asked himself was when?

**Chapter 7 is done! :)**

**R&R **

**4-5 reviews for chapter 8!**

**Thanks**


	8. Chapter 8

_Leah Mason was Tate's main concern as of now._

_He smirked manically as he felt his darkening thoughts consume him because Violet's suffering was almost over and he was doing it his way this time._

_The only real question he asked himself was when?_

**VIII**

**WARNING: Dark Tate. Drug use.**

Tate spent the next few weeks studying Leah Mason as much as he possibly could. He found out her habits and her weaknesses quicker then someone would think. This week marked the end of October. Halloween was the day after tomorrow and the young teacher couldn't be more thrilled with the timing. Finally, he could scare Leah without any interruptions, while no one knew it was him. It was all too perfect. Too perfect indeed.

He remembered her walking patterns, what streets she took, what times she walked them, she was easy to figure. Not to mention, he found out one of her little secrets while observing her. The coke addiction she suffered from since the end of her middle school years. Her dealer was whoever could sell her any. She wasn't picky with preferences. Luckily for Tate his drug days were far behind him, yet so close in his mind he remembers his stash under the floor boards of Constance's home, his bedroom was immaculate and it wasn't like the cancer ridden woman would be in there selling his shit for money anytime soon. He would have to go to her home again and play nice to get into his bedroom and get the goods for the little coke whore to carry out his plans. This was all for Violet. Not that she could ever know. He could risk his job by doing this. Doing anything sinister to someone, let alone a child under the laws of Los Angeles, would really fuck up his line of work, and everything he had built up to this very moment.

Was Violet Harmon really worth his profession?

He hadn't truly known.

He wasn't sure if he was thinking clearly when this planning went on in his head, yet this was for Violet, his Violet who took no shit from anyone. This girl was special. That much Tate knew. He _needed _to do this. Backing out now wasn't an option, he just hoped it wasn't a mistake either.

The plan was simple really, very clear. He would get the stash of coke, dressed up as a skeleton so his identity was somewhat unknown, his hair would be slicked back, and he would wear all black clothing and his face paint would be spot on. His long black coat would follow behind him, as his army boots would clunk against the asphalt towards her. He would lure her with his seductive charm, and the little baggy of coke if that didn't work, to an unnoticed ally-way before finally terrifying her into leaving Violet alone for good. The plan was full-proof. Gold, perfection, his plan was a make or break. Tate was really pleased with himself.

His teeth caught the reflection of the rear view mirror of his car before he started to laugh again. Everything was falling into place.

All seemed right with reality as of now. Nothing short of perfect.

**TxVxTxV**

**October 31st – Halloween**

Tate stood pacing in his apartment as the sun set just below the rooftops of the homes across the street. It was almost time, he couldn't help but grin like a little boy in a candy store as he succumbed to the dark thoughts plaguing his mind. Leah would be scared so bad by the time he was done with her she might have to transfer schools. He had hoped so at-least. No one deserved to be bullied. Especially by a girl who was as stupid as she was a blow whore.

The clock struck eight as he zipped up his long jacket shielding his body from the cooled down heat of the night ahead of him. He stared at the bag of coke for a minute and smirked. Thankfully his mother wasn't home when he went to retrieve his prize, so the confrontation was less than expected. Not that Tate would really say much towards his plans. What was there to be said anyways?

_Hey mom, I'm just coming by to grab my old stash of Cocaine in an attempt to scare the shit out of some girl bullying one of my eighteen year old students who I have become more then infatuated with. Can I have your blessing?_

Tate almost snorted at his own thoughts stupidity as he shoved the bag in the inner layer of his coat. He grabbed his car keys and smoothed back his gelled hair once more in the reflection of a picture. He looked unrecognizable.

It was time.

By the end of the night, Leah Mason would be the bully no more.

Tate couldn't wait.

**VxTxVxT**

The night ticked on as Tate sat in his car with the keys in the ignition of his car that was turned off and hidden behind a tree illuminated by the dim street lights. The chatter and laughter of children dying down with hours passing. Tate stared at his phone's clock and muttered to himself that it was almost her time to walk down this dead street. He was more then ready, that's when he saw her slutty attire, a catholic school girl. Typical. Her skirt barely leaving anything to the imagination as her chest hung out unappealingly. She wasn't pretty, she was just a scantily dressed whore out for a Halloween fuck. Nothing was different in the busy city of L.A. For a broad at-least.

Tate exited the car quietly as he possibly could before leaning up against a brick wall. He looked to her approaching figure and saw she hadn't looked up from her cell-phone and he smirked.

_Just a little closer. _He thought quietly as his lips stretched wider revealing his teeth.

_Three. Two. One._

"Hey." He replied smoothly. Leah's eyes snapped to meet his through the darkness.

"Hi?" Confusion laced her voice.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing outside at a time like this?" Tate smirked innocently at her.

"Halloween party, dipshit. Duh, what do you think I'm doing out here alone. Trick or treating?"

"Never said that, sweetheart. Just curious is all. Trust me, I wouldn't of pegged you as a young one anyway, not with a body like that." closer, his presence towered over her almost as she stared at him with what she thought was a sexy little smirk.

"Like what you see?" She giggled flirtatiously trailing her fingers down his jacket, her nails scraping the metal button as she tried to undo it. Tate inwardly gagged.

"Sure do, baby. So what will it take so I get a few hours with you?" Tate muttered working his hands along her waist, stopping at the top of her skirt. She shivered.

"I don't do money." She convicted.

"Will coke do? That's all I have." he could of laughed as her eyes lit up like a child about to open presents on Christmas. He pulled it out swinging the baggy in front of her jeeringly.

"Oh, I think we can work something out with that little arrangement." she smiled as she leaned up against him, Tate caught her wrist before she could grab the drug.

"Not so fast, sweetie." he laughed.

"What part of give me the drugs and I'll fuck your brains out don't you get? Don't be stupid, I'm doing you a favor, you scratch my back, I scratch yours." Tate's smile vanished as he shoved Leah against the wall, her back cracking against the brick and cement as she gasped in pain. His hand covering her mouth as he forced her to bite back a scream.

"I don't want you touching me, you dirty little tart. God, I was wondering how low you would stoop, not that I was surprised anyway with the outcome. I used to love easy girls like you. But, as I grew up, all of you disgust me in every possible way. Now, Leah. I'm gonna take my hand away from that little mouth of yours, if you even dare to make a sound," he pulled out a little blade and held it against her skin, as the metal glittered in the light. "I'll slit your fucking throat." she paled as Tate removed his hand.

"How do you know my name?" Silence. "Tell me you fucked up son of a bitch!"

"I've been watching you Leah, for weeks now. You're so goddamn predictable. I watch you bully and mess with a few people here and there, they all bothered me, but one particular girl got to me the most. Then I thought to myself, where does this bitch get off?" He held the blade up to her cheek.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she huffed breathlessly.

"Liar." He seethed, dragging the metal down her flesh, pressing hard as he saw the blood rise to the surface and tears sprang in her eyes. He watched as the coppery smelling liquid dripped.

"Violet Harmon." Another cut, just a bit deeper. Leah was close to screaming. Too close, Tate noticed, so he placed his hand back over her mouth.

"You cut her for smoking a cigarette." The last cut was so deep, her shrieks of pain and tears fell against his hand. Her body jerked trying to get away from him. It wasn't that easy. Leah felt the blood dribble against her neck.

"The next time I even hear you laid a hand on anyone at all?" Tate whispered venomously. "I'll slice that little throat straight across your jugular vein. A pretty clean slice for the disgusting slut. Or better yet, I'll get a serrated knife. They're more edgy." he laughed hotly in her ear.

"The choice is yours. I'll be watching you." he kissed her cheek as she screamed out sinking to her knees. He took off to his car without a second glance to the crying girl he had just tormented.

As he drove off, all his mind could think about was Violet and how she could never know.

**Sorry for the delay all, I've been busy busy! I hope this was dark enough for you! You know the expression. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth!**

**Let me know what you think!**

**4-5 reviews for chapter 9!**

**Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

_"The choice is yours. I'll be watching you." he kissed her cheek as she screamed out sinking to her knees. He took off to his car without a second glance to the crying girl he had just tormented._

_As he drove off, all his mind could think about was Violet and how she could never know._

**IX**

Violet Harmon wasn't used to being the center of attention, even if it wasn't for good reasons. When she walked through Westfield's glass doors that Monday it was as if time completely stopped. No students moved or breathed, their eyes connected harshly with her confused stare as her books seemed to grow tighter to her chest in an uneasiness.

"What's everyone's deal?" she asked no one in particular as she finally managed to get to her caramel colored locker.

"Everyone's "deal" is you hired someone to hurt Leah Mason. You're too scared, so you get someone else to fuck up her face? Are you aware that the scars from when that shit heals, are for life?" Came the voice of Ruby Preston. Her blonde hair in a straight ponytail and her blue eyes hostile. Violet twisted, meeting her glare with a genuine confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about? I haven't seen Leah since last week exactly. I haven't said two words because she has it out for me. I'm no wimp, but I would never intentionally start a fight with a girl who can slit a clean cut line into my skin." she gestured to the mark on her cheek that was still pink with pain.

"Well now, it looks like you have it out for _her_. All because you wanted to smoke those cancer causing cigarettes of yours, and she made you realize what you were getting into." Violet stepped closer to the platinum blonde barbie look-a-like.

"I didn't do _anything _to your precious little ringleader. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes to go too." Ruby grunted, before side stepping Violet with a small shove to her shoulder.

"Oh, and Violet?" she called sickly sweet over her shoulder. "You know The little _tiny _indentation on your skin? Just so you know, Leah has three of them. Each deeper then the last, a flawless line of split skin, down her right cheek. Deep, extremely noticeable scars will litter her once beautiful skin, because of you, your imperfections. It's you, Violet Harmon. You may be good at playing stupid, but we all know her accident was related to you in some way." and just like that she was gone. Leaving Violet alone in the shrinking corridor as the late bell rung above her head.

Violet's heart stopped as her blood ran cold down her veins as she thought of the only person other then herself who knew anything about the run-ins with Leah.

Tate Langdon.

_Oh no._

**TxVxTxV**

Tate sat at his desk going through various homework assignments and test sheets barely looking up from the red inked marks that littered papers with comments, critiques, and finally grades. The scribbles of the pen against paper echoed in his ears. His door slammed open, causing him to jolt back to reality.

Violet Harmon was staring him dead in the eye, her seething rage barely staying in her body, her fists clenched tightly until her knuckles were white. Her skin was on fire, she wanted to scream.

"What the fuck did you do to her, Tate!" her voice betrayed her, as she shook with rage as her eyes burned into his surprised onyx gaze.

"Violet, what are you doing here? What's the matter?" Tate asked rising from his desk chair in one fluid stride. He was right beside her.

"Don't act like you don't know!" her fingers clawed at her wrists subconsciously. Tate eyed her movements.

"Violet...what are you talking about?"

"Leah, Tate! You were the only person other than myself who knew about her! Now she's severely hurt and I'm being blamed. I didn't do anything to her." Tate's gaze hardened as he shut the door behind her. He pulled her to a seat.

"I had to Violet. She bullied you, she bullied other people, someone had to stop her, that person was me. I handled it!" Tate replied with a smirk.

"You handled her by slicing her face up? That's permanent damage. Her parent's could sue you for all you're worth." Tate's smirk deepened.

"She didn't see my face. That little slut won't do anything. She knows better."

"Something is seriously wrong with you." Violet's voice wavered as she tried to side-step him.

"Come on Vi, I showed that bitch! She's lucky I got to her before some alleyway rat killed her. Although that would've been a public service. Relax, she will never come near you again..." Tate tried to stroke her cheek in comfort, an innocent gesture. One that ran a shiver to her very core.

She whimpered. His eyes boring into her skull, she felt her body lose control, even for a few seconds before snapping back to reality. Her hands shoving him hard against the desk, making her lose balance herself.

"Stay away from me, Tate. I never will trust you again!" his gaze locked on the ground as his emotions went blank. What was she saying? He must have misheard her. Violet, _his_ Violet would never say something so malicious. The last thing he heard was her converse slamming down the marble hallway.

"I ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T AFRAID OF ANYTHING!" fell upon deaf ears.

**Hey guys! It's been a bit since I last updated, and I feel like people aren't as interested as they were when I started this. Because school is hitting me full force and the lack of reviews on last chapter. Hopefully this gets you excited for chapter 10. Where Stephanie will play a major role.**

**That should shake things up a bit for Violate, or what's going to be of them. Also it will skip a few days ahead.**

**4-5 reviews for the next post!**

**Thanks!**


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